


Moist Curretage

by RiseTheHorizon



Category: Marshal Does Stuff
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 13:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiseTheHorizon/pseuds/RiseTheHorizon
Summary: ...well, fuck.





	Moist Curretage

_ Author’s sidenote: There is a good chance that you will not find the following story to be erotic, or even comedic in an ironic sense. I am an aspiring writer and filmmaker, which is a creative way of writing: In-between jobs. My greatest achievements include reaching 650 reads on a Smosh fanfic and having washed up YouTuber Wroetoshaw open up a package I sent him years ago. Give me some slack, I am fairly shit at everything. Oh, this short story is brought to you by Marshal Does Discord, be sure to like, comment and subscribe! _

  
  
  


Birb & Block Text Patrol; two names that you wouldn’t expect to see scrawled by pocket knife in suburban parkland. Birb & Block, that sounds like a cop show, although nothing can beat Wheels & The Legman. Bokeh upon a sunset skyline, the night had only just started, they both knew that the night wouldn’t end any time soon.

 

“When have you got to go back?” A somewhat melancholy Birb asked, with some unfortunate forsight of what the answer would be.

 

“Four in the morning, unfortunately.” A breath bereft Block Text Patrol replied, a steady frown forming upon his lips. There is 

 

“Hmm... I can’t wait to get rid of you.” The sultry sarcasm in her voice pops and crackles like pork in an oven.

 

“Yeah, I mean, you have been a terrible host. I am a Cocker Cola guy but you just kept giving me Bepis.”

 

“Respect the Bepis.”

 

“No.”

 

“Respect it.”

 

“Make me.”

 

“Aww, sweetheart, there ain’t no solace or sanctimony in making demands like that.”

 

****

 

Moments of snark induced passion later, our plucky protagonists are strewn in a static moment of frenetic eroticism. Both are naked. Both bite their lips in anticipation. Block Text Patrol lies flat on Birb’s bed.

 

Despite on her knees, Birb’s shadow consumed Block Text Patrol, never before has 5’ 3’’ seemed so invincible. She was still, the strap-on genital trunk couldn’t help but sway from side to side. There is texture upon the tense air tonight, without a slight semblance of subtlety, oddly fitting at this moment.

 

Upon darkness and euphoria, the trunk takes aim… oh… oh… FIZZ!BANG!LOLLIPOPS!and regret.

 

The two lay upon themselves and their liquids, hypersexual creatures unified by exhaustion and lust.

 

Nipples and mole made massaging spears into Block Text Patrol’s shoulder blades.

 

Never to simulate those sensations ever again.


End file.
